


do me this solid if you would pretty lady

by satellites (brella)



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Banter, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brella/pseuds/satellites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara still can't get used to the psychic link.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do me this solid if you would pretty lady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irony_Rocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irony_Rocks/gifts).



> 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 7.  
> irony_rocks requested: "Dick/Barbara - flirting while on a mission; the entire team overhears."

If Barbara had to describe the location of the Team’s latest reconnaissance mission in just one sentence, she would say that it’s hot and smells like cows.

It’s Wisconsin, and it’s July – the warmth in the night air is tangibly heavy, and she can hear frogs from the trees a few feet away. There are rain clouds blotting out the stars and mosquitoes wheezing at her ear. She swats one away.

They’re staking out the secondary home of a Vlatavan politician by the name of Bastian Petrov, whom Batman had heard Count Vertigo wanted to go after due to the fact that he’d been using his riches and U.S. citizenship to step up as an outspoken ally of Queen Perdita’s. The place is completely decked out with motion sensors and alarms, but Nightwing had dispatched Barbara, Kid Flash, Artemis, Miss Martian, Superboy, and himself around the perimeter anyway. Zatanna, Rocket, and Aqualad had all had other plans. 

Barbara shifts silently in the dark, keeping her nightvision goggles trained on the window to the library study of their mark. He’s pacing the floor, safe and alive but incredibly high-strung now that the news of his potential assassination is in the wind.

“No changes,” Barbara murmurs into her communicator, pressing on it in her ear to transmit.

“We have a psychic link, you know,” Dick whispers back, and it crackles at her eardrum.

“Still can’t get used to it,” Barbara admits, and it’s true – Batman had versed her in the world of tangible earbuds and hidden bugs. “Sorry.” 

“Nah, it’s cute when you act like a rookie,” Dick coos, and Barbara bristles at the tease.

“You weren’t saying that during training yesterday,” she quips back in a breath. “When I cutely pinned you to the floor.”

“Ooh, I don’t know; the view was  _definitely_  endearing,” Dick says.

“It  _was_ ,” Barbara agrees pointedly, thinking of the bob of his Adam’s apple, his wrists in her hands as she’d triumphantly straddled him, the momentary look of dazedness in his eyes.

“Goodness,” Dick mutters, amused. “Don’t undress me with your voice; it’s indecent. And frankly something I didn’t know was possible.”

Oh, so he wants to dance around this, does he? Fine. Barbara can tap and tango with far more deftness than he can; she’s been doing it for darn near four years.

“Don’t flatter yourself,  _Boy_  Wonder,” she ripostes. “Don’t you think you’re reading into some things?”

“I always did do the closest readings in class,” Dick breathes, a clear reference to the fact that he’d proved her wrong in their senior English class just yesterday. “But I guess you’re just an open book.”    

“Funny, I don’t remember you thumbing through me,” Babs says coolly.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Hardly.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart here, Batgirl.”

“Good,” Barbara says with a snort. “You could use the exercise.”

“Speaking of exercise,” Dick breaks in, sounding uncannily complacent, “and thank you for the segué – the ballet is coming to upper Gotham this week. Do you know any scintillating redheads who would fit in the second seat I reserved?”

Barbara freezes, her mouth partway between a gape and a grin. She’d thought he’d been planning to take Bette to that.

 _I do!_  A voice suddenly cuts through her head, making her jump.  _Dude, I love the ballet; how’d you know?_

 _Wally!_  Another, huskier and sharper and far more feminine, followed by a violent thud and rustle from the trees, and a muffled “ow.”

 _Nice going, Kid Mouth_ , grumbles a new, tetchy mental string – Superboy.  _You killed the moment._

 _Oh, Batgirl, we’re sorry_ , the soft and recognizable push of Miss Martian’s thoughts bobs to the surface.

 _I’m not_ , Kid Flash interjects, his grin shoving into the link.  _Dude, you know we can **hear**  you, right?_

“What?” Babs splutters aloud, and then retries properly:  _What?_

 _Everything you say out loud has a mental echo in the comm_ , Miss Martian explains, sounding embarrassed.

 _And everything you **stop**  yourself from saying_, Artemis adds pointedly, but Barbara can sense that one being sent more in Dick’s direction than hers.

 _Then why didn’t **we**  hear it?_ Barbara demands, her cheeks involuntarily flushing.

 _Your mental focus was elsewhere_ , Miss Martian replies.

 _I’ll say_ , Wally sniggers, and Barbara hears another thump.  _Jeez, stop that!_

 _Would you like me to set up a separate link for the two of you?_  Miss Martian offers kindly to Barbara and Dick.

 _God, no!_  Barbara projects back sharply, but it clashes with Dick’s unexpected,  _Yeah, Miss M, thanks._

At once, the mental presence of the others fades out like a slipping radio signal, and Barbara, now that she’s paying attention, can feel Dick lingering at her temples, bright blue, fizzy, attentive.

 _Wow_ , Barbara thinks cautiously.

 _I hate them_ , Dick replies, with churlish frankness that makes her giggle.  _I do; I really do. Can you sell speedsters on the black market?_

 _Yes_ , Barbara interjects.  _I mean, yes, I know a redhead who can take the seat_.

 _Oh, you had me excited for a second there; I thought you had black market connections_ , Dick retorts primly, and then there’s a pause.  _Tell me about her. I need credentials._

Barbara smiles, privately, soft and bowed and irreparably happy.  _She’s a dish. Good with computers, pretty fair at hand-to-hand combat, valedictorian contender, **loves**  mathletes…_

 _If that’s not a catch, I don’t know what is_ , Dick thinks back, and, from the other side of the building, she hears it – a fleeting strike of laughter.  _Tell your friend it’ll be a pleasure._

 _Sure, Dick_. Barbara chuckles quietly, shakes her head, checks the binoculars again.

 _It really will, Babs_ , his mind murmurs again, and the sincerity, the startling absence of roundabout mischief, makes Barbara falter.

 _I know_ , she thinks back before she can conjure up anything wittier.    

Dick taps his temple and asks Miss Martian to link them all up again. Barbara trains her thoughts to not turn into butterflies, to refrain from fluttering freely into every open crevice, but she is sure that her and Dick’s minds are still stitched together, like entwined hands or warm bodies. 

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Barbara joined the Team at least a little while before it started to disband, before all the drama with Aquagirl and the retirement of Wally and Artemis. So this probably takes place when she’s relatively new to the Team, but not to the Batgirl mantle. ALSO, FLIRTYTALK, I AM NOT GOOD AT IT!


End file.
